


Push and Pull

by AccursedSpatula



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fingering, M/M, Marathon Sex, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedSpatula/pseuds/AccursedSpatula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sticking to the book had helped him climb to Kotal’s inner circle, still just a mercenary, still just hired muscle, but now with some force and merit behind his name. And of course it had gone to his head, puffed up his goddamn ego, testing the limits of what he could get away with, until one know-it-all, sarcastic comment in Kotal’s presence.</p><p>It was after that that Kotal started fucking him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push and Pull

**Author's Note:**

> heard you whippersnappers needed some porn
> 
> unbeta'd
> 
> edit: now with lovely art that i'll embed at the end
> 
> http://wakingseeecrets.tumblr.com/post/124634438882/this-took-so-fucking-long-im-sorry-based-on

Erron hadn’t expected today to be one of ‘those days.’

He never really knew when to expect it, just knew the telltale signs leading up to it. By all accounts, today was just average, average morning, average duties, average meeting with Kotal and his advisors, not that Erron was of any great importance there.

Kotal seemed bored, or, more accurately, restless, curt with the advisors and unwilling to go into any unneeded detail. He cut off several others mid-sentence when they had gone on too long and had dismissed one who insisted on speaking, and Erron had tried to shirk farther back into the wall, hoping to just be ignored. Keep your head down, do what you were told, and don’t ask questions, he reminded himself. He’d attempted things beyond his pay grade before and paid dearly for them, and he had no intention of repeating the experience.

For the most part, he hugged the wall in meetings, sat quietly until he was given something to do, and played his cards close to his chest. And for a long time, his relationship with the Emperor had been strictly employer/employee, exchange of money for services, nothing beyond that.

Sticking to the book had helped him climb to Kotal’s inner circle, still just a mercenary, still just hired muscle, but now with some force and merit behind his name. And of course it had gone to his head, puffed up his goddamn ego, testing the limits of what he could get away with, until one know-it-all, sarcastic comment in Kotal’s presence.

It was after that that Kotal started fucking him.

He’d gotten Erron on his knees, reminded him who paid him, who spared him after the debacle with Cassie Cage, who let him return to his service and trusted him. He’d put Erron back in his place, although Erron had enjoyed it a lot more than he should have.

However, he hadn’t expected it to continue.

But it had. It wasn’t intimate, wasn’t really anything beyond sex, and even then it was almost professional, just like the rest of their relationship. Kotal would just give him a sign, or send for him after hours, no pretense, no expectations. Just sex. Good sex, Erron might add.

Kotal had given him a look, _the_ look, as he dismissed everyone, predatory, a bit aloof, and Erron had nodded a fraction of an inch.

Later he’d meandered through marble corridors to find the two vast doors to Kotal’s private quarters. The hall was mercifully empty, Erron slipping unhindered into the room, struggling to close the door silently behind him.

It was deserted, torchlight flickering softly, the room impeccable. Erron wondered if he’d made an error, if he’d misinterpreted. What was the better option now? To wait and be dismissed when Kotal returned? Or to leave, to pretend he’d never been here, that he hadn’t noticed Kotal’s invitation?

Erron froze as the door opened. He looked over, watched Kotal quietly close it behind him. Reserved. Calculated. The mediator, not the warrior.

He didn’t say anything, just turned slightly as Kotal approached him, crossing the room in a handful of strides, quick without the urgency of rushing. Kotal stopped before him, loomed above him, gave Erron a moment to marvel at their height difference. Erron opened his mouth to speak, but Kotal reached for him, sought out the leather strap of his mask.

Erron dipped his head, let Kotal take the mask off, one strap unbuckled before the mask slid free around his face. Kotal set it on the desk with his left hand, his right palm still pressed to Erron’s cheekbone. Kotal traced his thumb over the sharp scar running diagonally through Erron’s mouth, marring his lips, making his grin more menacing. It felt too tender, too intimate, and Erron didn’t know how to react to it. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, of being submissive, and without his mask he felt especially exposed and vulnerable.

Kotal’s fingers slipped into his hair, wrapped around the base of his skull. Erron leaned into his touch, closed his eyes as Kotal leaned down for a rough, bruising kiss. Erron reached forward, ran one hand up Kotal’s chest as Kotal’s left hand grabbed him at the hip. Kotal’s skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, and Erron leaned into Kotal, desperate for more contact despite the layers between them.

Kotal pulled back, pulling at Erron’s bandolier, clearly just as fed up with those layers. Erron shucked it off, followed by the chestplate and the shirt, and then Kotal was kissing him again, hard, long, licking into Erron’s mouth as he pulled Erron close to him. The skin on skin contact was electric, Erron arching his back, panting as Kotal kissed his jaw, his neck, his shoulder before grazing his teeth against his collarbone.

“Christ almighty,” Erron murmured. Kotal silenced him with another forceful kiss.

Erron nudged Kotal back, gave him a small push towards the bed. Kotal stepped back, broke from Erron to collapse onto the bed, sitting back and beckoning Erron to climb onto his lap. Erron took his time, undoing his gauntlets as he meandered forward, gaze wandering down Kotal’s body.

Kotal patted his thigh as Erron stopped at the edge of the bed, standing between Kotal’s legs. Erron pursed his lips, then dropped to his knees, one hand gingerly placed on each of Kotal’s thighs.

“I love seeing you like this,” Erron admitted, looking up.

Kotal grunted, maybe in approval, more likely just in acknowledgement. He brushed Erron’s hair out of his face, cradled the side of his skull.

“Can I?” he asked, a bit too coquettish for his own liking. He ran his hand up Kotal’s thigh, thumb brushing over warm skin.

Kotal traced Erron’s brow with his thumb. He nodded, staring down at Erron with half-lidded eyes. Erron gently shifted the bones and fabric of Kotal’s breechcloth aside, draping it over his thigh, the bones clacking softly together. Kotal was half-hard already, just from their brief contact, and Erron raised a brow.

He leaned forward, sucked a mark into Kotal’s thigh as his left hand stroked his cock. Kotal sighed, leaned back, his hand slipping from Erron’s hair as he stretched his arms behind him. Erron teased him a bit, with long, slow pumps, feeling Kotal’s cock swell in his hand. Erron pressed his lips to the base, flicking his eyes up to meet Kotal’s dazed, curious stare.

Kotal exhaled harshly as Erron licked him from base to tip, sliding the head of Kotal’s cock in his mouth. Kotal leaned forward, that hand finding its way back into Erron’s hair, encouraging him but not forcing him. Erron shifted forward, slipped more of Kotal’s cock in his mouth, fingers curling around what he couldn’t reach. Kotal was big, bigger than Erron in every regard. In all honesty, Erron didn’t mind.

He bobbed his head, used the friction of his tongue, careful to keep his teeth out of the mix, his hand squeezing and pumping the base of Kotal’s cock. Kotal scratched the back of his head, fingers affectionately carding through his hair, and Erron looked up, grinned around the cock in his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, Erron ran his tongue along the underside of Kotal’s cock, taking an extra second to lick away the bead of bitter fluid at the head before swallowing him back down. His cock jerked in his pants when Kotal stifled a moan through gritted teeth.

Soon those fingers in his hair were quietly flexing, urging Erron’s head forward, and Erron let himself go limp, placing his hands back on Kotal’s thighs as Kotal thrust shallowly into his mouth. Kotal was big, and powerful, and Erron would be lying if he said he weren’t aroused by the prospect of being dominated sometimes.

But even more exciting was seeing Kotal come undone, was seeing his normally stoic, assertive expression break for a few seconds, turn desperate and almost vulnerable in pleasure. Kotal was panting softly, pushing his hips forward into Erron’s mouth with Erron an all too willing participant, tracing little nothings onto Kotal’s thighs. When his fingers tugged harshly at Erron’s hair, Erron knew it was a sign that Kotal was close.

Kotal leaned forward, the muscles in his thighs flexing, and groaned harshly, and Erron felt bitter fluid flood his mouth. He’d never been much for swallowing, instead just waiting as Kotal went still for a few ragged breaths and then shifted back, his cock slipping from Erron’s mouth. Erron ducked his head, quickly wiping away a stray trail of drool and semen from his chin while he looked for something to spit into.

He found a grubby handkerchief in his pocket, spitting into it and wiping his mouth and calling it a loss. He felt disheveled, certainly not handsome or remotely attractive at this point. “Sorry,” he blurted, aware that he’d just killed all of their momentum, but Kotal’s hands were on his shoulders, urging him to his feet and then pulling him close.

“No matter,” Kotal murmured.

Kotal’s fingertips skimmed down Erron’s back, coming to rest at his hips, keeping Erron flush to him. Like this, with Kotal seated, Erron was half a head taller than him, and Kotal tipped his head back as Erron leaned down for a much gentler kiss. Kotal’s hands dropped lower, palming Erron’s ass for a moment before kneading his thighs. Erron moaned and bucked his hips forward, his cock hard in his pants, now grinding shamelessly against the hard muscles of Kotal’s stomach, while Kotal kissed him harder, already wanting more.

Kotal grabbed him at the waist, pulled him down into his lap, Erron straddling him, settling himself as Kotal skimmed his hands up Erron’s thighs to his chest, deliberately avoiding his groin. Erron arched his back, savoring the warm touch, inhaling sharply as Kotal’s thumbs flicked over his nipples.

Erron watched lazily as Kotal slowly undid his belt, tugging it free and dropping it off the side of the bed with a sharp _clank_. Kotal toyed with the waist of his pants, hesitating, and Erron wondered what Kotal thought of him, deep down. He knew Kotal had consorts—he was an Emperor, after all—beautiful women, powerful women (and the occasional man), people far above Erron’s social standing. And this wasn’t love, this wasn’t anything sappy or romantic, although Kotal could be affectionate at times.

Cynically, he wondered if Kotal saw this as just something he was paying for, just another service Erron offered. Well, at least he was getting his money’s worth.

“You are tense,” Kotal commented, a hand on the outside of Erron’s thigh, feeling his taught muscle through the fabric of his pants.

“Just leftover jitters from earlier,” Erron remarked, brushing it off. “Don’t worry about it.”

After a moment Kotal had worked open the front of Erron’s pants, his erection pushing against the leather. Erron rolled his hips, desperate for friction, his arms looped lazily around Kotal’s neck, the hard ridge of his headpiece digging into the underside of his elbow. Kotal responded by slipping his hands beneath Erron’s pants, sliding around to his backside to cup his ass.

“Go on, do it,” Erron urged, voice just above a harsh whisper. He leaned over, using one arm to anchor himself to Kotal, and grabbed a small, familiar gray stone jar from the table beside the bed, urgently pressing it into Kotal’s palm. He lazily shut his eyes, wishing Kotal had taken the stupid headpiece off before they started so he could lean forward and bury his face in the crook of Kotal’s neck.

“Incessant,” Kotal mused. “Or is this just work to you, Black? A task to get over as quickly as possible?” Kotal chuckled, his chest rumbling.

“You’re starting to make it feel that way, making me wait.” Another laugh earned in reply, this one darker.

Kotal pushed Erron’s pants down, just below his hips, freeing his cock and exposing his ass, and then a slick fingertip was pushing at him, gently prodding and teasing. “Is this what you’re so eager for?”

Erron’s hips bucked, his fingers searching for purchase as Kotal’s finger breached him, not painful but too thick to be immediately pleasant. It was always like this, always an odd intrusion at the start, Erron trying to will himself to relax and doing the opposite.

Kotal’s other hand was on Erron’s back, lightly tracing down his spine as Kotal kissed his neck, sucking a dark mark near his collarbone, one that would be hidden under leather and strappings tomorrow. Erron welcomed the distraction, letting some of the tension bleed out of his muscles, especially his legs, leaning forward and letting Kotal take his weight. He could feel Kotal’s cock, hard again, pressing into the back of his thigh, and Erron’s own twitched in response.

Kotal moved his finger slowly, just teasing Erron, but when Erron started to move his hips in time with Kotal’s thrusts, Kotal took it as an invitation to add a second, slick finger. Erron hissed, feeling the stretch, his face flushing. He always felt humiliated at this, at being worked open, even though Kotal seemed to enjoy preparing him, watching Erron come undone on his fingers before he fucked him.

Kotal was more aggressive with two fingers, finding  a steady rhythm, still shallow at first, his fingers urging deeper as Erron relaxed. Erron rolled his hips, arched his back slightly, and Kotal responded by sliding his fingers in almost to the last knuckle, pressing down until—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Erron gasped, pleasure shooting through him as Kotal pressed against his prostate. His thighs tensed, the blood rushing south in an instant.

“Hm?” Kotal mused, curious and a little smug. He knew exactly what he’d done, and Erron hated him for it.

“Feels good,” Erron said, grinding his cock against Kotal’s stomach. “Right there.”

Kotal thrust his fingers in again, deeper, putting good, steady pressure on Erron’s prostate. Erron stifled a moan, moving his hips more urgently. He groaned as Kotal slipped in a third finger, stretching him further, a little too fast.

Kotal toyed with Erron, finger-fucked him as Erron pushed back, wanting that pressure again. His free hand held Erron steady as he squirmed in Kotal’s lap, seeking friction on both ends, unsatisfied.

“Kotal, please,” Erron said, not desperate, just ready to move on, knowing that Kotal would tease Erron until he finished otherwise. Kotal slid his fingers out, holding Erron as he twisted to the side before laying Erron flat on his back, head near the headboard.

Erron draped his legs on either side of Kotal, Kotal reaching for Erron’s left leg, undoing the straps on his boot before tugging it free and carelessly dropping it off the bed.

“Far too many clothes, Black,” Kotal commented. Erron’s right boot followed, and then Kotal’s hands were at his waist of his pants, now lifting his hips so he could pull them down over long legs. Those too were shoved off the bed, landing somewhere near the belt.

Kotal undid the breechcloth, letting it fall to the bed beside him, picking up the stone jar once more. He slicked up his cock, long, firm strokes, smirking when he noticed Erron’s stare, and then he was reaching for Erron, grabbing his legs hauling him closer by the hips, his knees draped over Kotal’s shoulders. Kotal reached down, grasped his cock, ran the head over Erron’s hole.

“Stop being a tease,” Erron chided.

“Not teasing, merely prolonging my enjoyment. And yours as well.”

Erron groaned as Kotal pushed forward, the head of his cock stretching him. Kotal moved slowly, giving Erron time to adjust, inch by inch, Erron’s hand between his legs, feeling Kotal’s cock sink into him until their hips were flush. Erron looked up at Kotal, finding his face unreadable, still wearing his headdress and gauntlets, regal even now, fucking his subordinate.

The first few thrusts were slow, Kotal pulling almost all the way out on each stroke, before easing back inside. Erron spurred him on with a moan muffled by the back of his hand, Kotal leaning forward, bending Erron in two as his thrusts picked up, faster, rougher. He caged Erron’s head with his arms, suddenly dominating Erron’s field of view, and then everything around him was Kotal, every touch, every sensation, completely overwhelming.

Erron writhed beneath Kotal, Kotal leaning down to kiss him, careful of the sharp edges of his headdress. His thrusts were hard now, driving steadily into Erron’s body as Erron moaned, Kotal swallowing the sound and licking into his mouth. They broke, Kotal panting into Erron’s ear as Erron snaked a hand between them, desperate for some friction on his cock.

Kotal shifted his arms, let Erron wrap his legs around his waist for more leverage, as Erron closed his fingers around his erection, stroking himself in time with Kotal’s thrusts. Locking his ankles behind Kotal’s back, Erron glanced down at them, at his own legs, spread obscenely, at his cock, weeping onto his own stomach, at Kotal’s massive chest looming above him.

Kotal snapped his hips up on the next thrust, forcing a harsh breath out of Erron as pleasure shot through him, his cock jerking in his grasp. There was that pressure again, making his thighs quiver, and Erron squeezed Kotal at the hips, urging him deeper. “Like that,” he groaned. “Again.”

“As you command,” Kotal remarked, teasing, and Erron wanted to snark right back, but all he could manage was half a moan and a stern look, one knocked off his face as he screwed his eyes shut in pleasure. This was good, this was why Erron would still crawl back to Kotal’s bed even if he weren’t getting paid.

The sounds of skin on skin and ragged breathing filled the room, cut by Erron’s sharp moan as Kotal reached down, sliding his hand under Erron’s to grasp his cock, continuing to pump it with the same tempo. Kotal’s hand was bigger, rougher, callused with a single, thick scar running down the center of it. Erron eagerly bucked up into his fist, pleasure pooling in his lower stomach.

He was close, so close, his hand covering Kotal’s, urging him, just needing that little bit, that last few touches, his skin tingling, muscles tensed. Kotal teased him, rubbed the head of Erron’s cock with each stroke, and thrust in particularly deep and suddenly Erron was coming, hard, every muscle going taut as his cock twitched in Kotal’s grip, tilting his head back and breaking off into a series of strained huffs, spilling onto his own stomach.

Kotal slowed down, his hand still working Erron’s cock, long, slow pulls, until Erron opened his eyes, grabbed Kotal’s hand at the wrist. “I’m good,” he said, settling back, Kotal leaning over him. “Keep going.”

Erron shuddered, oversensitive, as Kotal resumed his thrusts, slower at first, rapidly picking up as Kotal sought his own pleasure. It didn’t take long, Kotal’s thrusts beginning to stutter, his face drawn in concentration, Erron encouraging him with his ankles locked behind Kotal’s back.

“Come on,” he murmured, one hand drifting down to skim over Kotal’s broad pec, thumb tracing the start of the horizontal scar running across it. “Don’t hold back.” Erron knew they were going to be doing this again in ten minutes.

A moment later Kotal’s hips jerked erratically, his cock spasming inside Erron, and Erron felt the spill of hot fluid inside him, Kotal shutting his eyes, groaning through gritted teeth. He went still on top of Erron for a few moments, before shifting backwards, sliding out of Erron, who draped an arm over his eyes.

Erron listened to the soft rustle of leather, of ties being worked open, before he moved his arm, looking down at Kotal, busy undoing his gauntlets.

“Not wasting any time, are you?” Erron commented. He sat up, grimacing at the white slickness between his thighs, having always hated that sensation.

“How would you prefer I spend my idle moments in bed?”

Erron shrugged. “At least let me help you.”

Shifting onto his knees, Erron slid over to Kotal, reaching for the seam between the plates of his helmet, fingers prying it open. Kotal’s hands wandered to Erron’s thighs, glancing up the sides of his legs to his torso, finally back down to his waist, when Kotal pulled him forward, back into his lap, Erron straddling him.

Determined to keep focus, Erron separated the plates, pulled the jaw piece from the top, Kotal tilting his head to the side as Erron removed them. His hands traced random nothings on the outside of Erron’s thighs, leaving hot trails on his skin, occasionally squeezing and kneading. Erron set the plates on the bed, momentarily distracted, and then Kotal’s lips were on his neck, kissing, biting, demanding Erron’s attention.

Kotal’s nails raked down Erron’s back, reaching under him to cup his ass, fingers pressing at Erron’s entrance, hesitating just a moment before slipping inside with an obscene squelch.

“Already?” Erron ground out, hips pushing back, fucking himself on Kotal’s fingers. “Give me a minute.”

“I believe I’ve given you several, Black.”

“You don’t pay me by the hour. Quit rushing.”

They traded touches, kisses, and bites, Kotal teasing Erron’s cock back to hardness, until Erron was thrusting haphazardly into Kotal’s tight grip, needing more. Kotal nipped at the hollow of Erron’s throat, grazed his teeth against his skin, and then picked up Erron at the waist, shifting onto his knees.

Erron held on via one hand draped around Kotal’s neck, keeping his balance as Kotal turned them, his back now to the headboard, propped up against it, Erron lying on his chest. As Kotal settled them, Erron pushed himself up, one hand at the center of Kotal’s broad chest.

“How should we do this?” Erron asked, sliding his cock against Kotal’s, curling his fingers around both of them, marvelling momentarily at their size difference.

“In whatever manner most pleases you,” Kotal responded.

“Well then.” Erron rose up onto his knees, and with Kotal guiding him at the waist, lowered his hips, sank down on Kotal’s cock, groaning at the stretch. It was easier this time, but the sensation of being completely filled never quite lost its novelty. He dug his fingertips briefly into the into Kotal’s shoulders, searching for purchase, until Kotal was fully seated, Erron resting his weight on Kotal’s hips.

Kotal didn’t move, just skimmed his palm down Erron’s thigh. Erron glanced at him. “Gonna make me do all the work?” he quipped, rolling his hips.

“You chose this position,” Kotal replied, drawing nothings on Erron’s leg. “And I must admit, I do enjoy seeing you engrossed in a task.”

Erron liked being on top--it let him set the pace, let him watch Kotal come undone beneath him, made him feel more in control than other positions. He started slowly, rising up onto his knees so that just the head of Kotal’s cock remained in him before sinking back down all the way, carefully fisting his cock in time, smearing fluid over the head and down the shaft. His free hand was placed squarely in the center of Kotal’s chest, fingers spread out, not really for balance but more for show.

Erron rolled his hips on each thrust, increasing his tempo, little flashes of pleasure shooting through him each time Kotal’s cock hit that spot inside him. Erron dipped his head, concentrating on his movements, Kotal’s hands sliding from his waist to squeeze his ass.

It was slow, a steady build, Erron sighing contentedly when Kotal’s cock pushed into his prostate, fisting his cock. He gazed down at Kotal, aware he was putting on quite the show, lazy smirk on his face, a bit too cocky, maybe. Erron didn’t care. Horses weren’t the only thing he was good at riding.

Kotal startled him by thrusting up as Erron pushed down, evidently not going to leave all the work to Erron. Erron let out a small, choked noise, his cock jerking in his hand. Erron ground his hips down harder, more frenzied, spearing himself on Kotal’s cock. It didn’t take long for Erron to get close, thighs tense, his skin on fire, his groin tight, and then a few more thrusts and he was coming, shutting his eyes and stifling a shout, spilling into his own hand as he clenched hard around Kotal’s cock.

Erron’s orgasm was enough to push Kotal over, holding Erron at the hips for a few final, erratic thrusts, and then Erron was collapsing, sliding off Kotal to lie face down on the bed beside him, boneless.

For a few minutes neither said anything, Erron dozing on the pillows, beginning to feel that familiar exhaustion. If given the opportunity, he could fall asleep here, despite the stickiness, although he knew it would be an absolutely poor choice to do so. Kotal turned over beside him, and Erron sighed as he felt strong hands on his shoulder, running down his side.

Erron felt Kotal’s weight on his thighs, Kotal straddling him just behind his hips, hands working Erron’s shoulders, working out the knots and leftover tension there. Erron groaned into the pillows, Kotal’s thumbs pressing into the soft spot just below his neck, working down his spine.

Under rough hands it didn’t take long for Erron’s interest to return, and by the time Kotal got to his lower back, skipping his ass to work his thighs instead, Erron was hard, leaking, grinding against the sheets. The moment Kotal’s hand left his thigh Erron tried to turn over, but Kotal pushed him back, kept him pinned on his stomach with a firm hand on his shoulder.

He kneed Erron’s legs open, knelt between them, and then those hands were grabbing Erron at the hips, pulling him up onto all fours. Erron flushed hotly, a jolt of pleasure shooting through him, feeling open and exposed, a trickle of semen running down his thigh as he moved. Erron braced himself on the headboard, Kotal behind him, shivering as Kotal parted the globes of his ass, a rough thumb pushing one of those slick trails back to Erron’s hole.

“Kotal,” Erron groaned, “ _fuck_ me.”

The thick head of Kotal’s cock pressed against his hole, Erron twitching in anticipation. This was the Erron Black who never left the confines of this room, the one who was needy and desperate and more than a bit of a whore. He moaned as Kotal breached him, pushing back with his hips, eager, wet and relaxed and just _ready_.

Kotal’s thrusts were long and slow and deep, Erron anchored at the hips, clawing at the headboard, pushing back to meet each one. Erron clung to the headboard, until his arms gave out, palms hitting the bed, arms taking his weight. Kotal leaned over him, changing the angle of his thrusts, and Erron could feel the heat of his skin an inch away, surrounding him, overwhelming him.

Kotal kissed the side of his neck, traced a line to Erron’s ear with the tip of his tongue, one hand skimming over Erron’s ribs at his side. Erron’s cock jerked under him, begging to be touched, dripping onto the sheets beneath them.

One particularly deep thrust forced a shout from Erron, his arms collapsing, shoulder hitting the bed, arms underneath him. He was too tired to pick himself up, spreading his legs wider, Kotal fucking him harder as Erron reached for his cock, stroking himself with both hands. Kotal’s hand found his hair, pushed Erron’s face into the bed, one hand still on his hip as he rutted into him.

They were silent, save for Erron’s moans and the lewd slap of skin on skin, Erron’s cock slick in his hands, still forcing his hips up to meet each stroke. The fingers in his hair dug in harder, and Kotal’s other hand slipped under Erron’s ribcage, pulling him up onto his knees. Erron gasped, Kotal yanking his his head back by the hair, sucking a dark bruise into the side of Erron’s throat.

The hand on his chest raked over Erron’s pec possessively, pinching his nipple, Erron arching into the touch, Kotal’s teeth grazing his neck. With one hand still loosely working himself, Erron reached back, gripping Kotal’s thigh, pulling him deeper, closer. Kotal twisted Erron’s head, craned his neck to kiss Erron, rough, Erron moaning into Kotal’s mouth.

Kotal’s fingers slipped free of Erron’s hair, dropping down his body to grab his cock, chasing away Erron’s own hand. His grip was tight, letting Erron buck up into his fist as he continued to pound him, Erron’s head lolling back to rest on Kotal’s shoulder, jostled with each thrust.

Erron’s hand reached for Kotal’s face, turning him into another messy, frantic kiss. Erron let out an undignified whine, panting, shutting his eyes as Kotal played with his cock, teasing his finger over the head.

Sharp pain flooded Erron’s shoulder as Kotal bit him, not hard enough to break the skin, Kotal thrusting into Erron _hard_ , and Erron felt the hot rush of liquid inside him, pushing him right over the edge. He came with a shout, eyes screwed shut, twisting in Kotal’s grasp, cock twitching, digging his hand into Kotal’s thigh to keep him deeper, _right there_ as he finished, clenching down tightly.

For a moment he stayed there, kept upright by leaning back on Kotal, until Kotal moved forward, lowering Erron to the bed, Erron wincing as Kotal’s cock slipped from him. He dropped onto the bed, limbs feeling like lead, sticky, sweaty, too tired to even care, rolling onto his back to flash a weak grin at Kotal.

Kotal settled himself beside Erron, not close enough to be intimate, but definitely not finished, either. He reached for Erron’s face, fingers under his jaw, turning his head before leaning over to kiss him, slow, teasing, his hand trailing down Erron’s neck to his chest. He wasted little time, dropping his hand further, cupping Erron’s cock before starting to stroke him.

Erron shivered under Kotal’s touch, the sensation too much to process, even though Kotal was slow, teasing, almost curious, toying with Erron, a large cat and a very overstimulated mouse. Erron reached down, pried Kotal’s fingers from around his cock.

“I can’t,” he murmured. “Too much.”

Erron expected some comment about his lack of stamina, but he got nothing save a nod, and Kotal’s hand on his hip. Erron wriggled, struggling to turn over to face Kotal, who pushed him back, pressing his chest to Erron’s back, lifting Erron’s thigh upwards at the knee.

“Kotal--” Erron reached backwards, sucking in a small breath at the press of Kotal’s hard cock against his upper thigh. “I said I can’t--”

Kotal lowered Erron’s leg, trapping his cock between them, and Erron understood, squeezing his thighs together, Kotal’s slick cock sliding between them. Kotal wrapped a thick arm around Erron’s chest, thrusting almost lazily between his thighs, pushing Erron half onto his stomach, bearing down on top of him.

Erron rolled his hips against Kotal, tensed his thighs, fidgeting under Kotal’s weight, each thrust jostling him. Kotal panted near Erron’s ear, Erron pressing his thighs together, feeling the slippery push of Kotal’s cock against him, until Kotal’s hips snapped up a few times, short, rough thrusts, and then there was hot slick on Erron’s thighs, Kotal groaning into the side of Erron’s neck.

Erron relaxed his thighs as Kotal released him, pulling completely away from Erron. Erron pushed himself up, one leg underneath him, sitting on the bed as Kotal rounded the foot of it, nudging one of Erron’s discarded boots aside with his foot. He glanced over at Erron, a mess on the bed, sweaty, flushed, sticky, hair tousled.

“You should return to your quarters now,” Kotal mused, gaze drifting down to Erron’s scattered clothing. “Do not forget your articles.”

“Of course,” Erron murmured, staring instead at the floor as Kotal left the room. He waited on the bed for a long moment, taking note of where his various items were. Crudely, he wiped his thigh on the sheets, knowing they were well beyond ruined anyway, and then stood, finding his pants, then his boots, then shirt and bandoliers.

The last thing to collect was the mask, still sitting on the desk where Kotal had placed it earlier. Erron snatched it on his way to the door, thumbing out a snag near the bottom while he debated putting it back on. He already looked well-fucked; covering the lower half of his face wasn’t going to fool anyone. But sometimes one did things for oneself, even when it didn’t matter to the outside world. Erron would keep up his facade, if only for himself.

Regardless, Erron fitted the mask to his face, curled the straps around the back of his head, redid the buckle at the side. He sighed, the sound muffled by the leather, fixed his bandolier and belts, and then slipped out the door.


End file.
